The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls
by mad not sad
Summary: Uncover the sinful side of Hogwarts…cheating on the OWLs, point shaving in Quidditch, underground parties, political scandals, clandestine relationships, secret societies, and blood feuds. We all have our secrets…but some are deadlier than others.
1. crime & punishment

**A/N**: This was originally posted on HPFF.

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><p><em>The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls<em>

**Crime and Punishment**

(c) All Rights Reserved

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><p>Welcome to Hogwarts, where everyone has a secret and nothing is as it seems.<p>

Take that pretty girl in your Charms class. She's always surrounded by a tight circle of friends, laughing and gossiping the morning away. Her impossibly shiny hair cascades down her back, and you just know the boy sitting behind her is imagining what she looks like underneath her robes. She turns around and gives him a flirtatious wink while slipping him a secret note. They'll rendezvous tonight in the Astronomy Tower while hiding from the prefects on patrol. There's only one problem – she has a boyfriend, and it isn't him.

Or what about that sexy bloke on your House Quidditch team? He saunters through the corridors of the school like he owns the place, and you've heard that his inordinately wealthy family practically does, actually. If he forgets to do his homework or shows up to class half an hour late, the professors overlook it. He probably had Quidditch practice, after all. He always seems to skive off detention, and he's usually off snogging a girl instead of scrubbing the cauldrons like he's meant to be doing. He's the golden boy, he's untouchable. Oh, and he's committed a crime so terrible that if it were discovered, he'd go to Azkaban for life.

It's not just the popular ones who lead double lives. That quiet Ravenclaw threw the wildest party of the year last night. The loser who always sits alone in the Great Hall is a major player in the school's black market. The sweet little girl reading out by the Black Lake knows something so dangerous that she's constantly afraid for her life. That easygoing boy who always says hello to you in the Owlery is really on his way to becoming a ruthless Dark wizard.

The students at Hogwarts cheat, steal, lie, and scheme. They're nothing like the innocent little witches and wizards their parents think they are. The deceit, the sins: it's all fun and games, right?

Until it goes too far, like it did for Nicola Lufkin. Nicola was the flawless über-girl of Hogwarts. To her, rules were merely suggestions. She made people do whatever she wanted them to, as if they were her pieces in a wizard chess game. Everything was a game to Nicola. Breaking hearts, spreading rumors, keeping secrets – she played, and won, like a pro. But her games made some powerful people very angry. And before she knew it, poor little Nicola was in over her head…

One night last March, Nicola Lufkin went to a party. The next morning, she was nowhere to be found. No one knows what happened to Nicola. Except one person, that is. Someone at Hogwarts knows exactly what happened that fateful night, and that person will do anything and everything to keep it a secret. Because sinister circumstances surrounded Nicola's disappearance, and for the four best friends she left behind, things are only about to get all the more sinister…

Rose, Aury, Beckett, and Dominique are about to discover the consequences of sin. They've been very wicked girls, and if they don't watch out, they'll soon be on their way to meeting Nicola's fate.

They have sinned. And now, they will be punished.

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><p><strong>AN**: I know, I'm creepy. You don't need to tell me. This was loosely inspired by Pretty Little Liars. If you liked this, please leave a review! Let me know if you want me to post the next part or not. And please don't favorite without reviewing. Thank you!


	2. original sin, part i

_The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls_

**Original Sin, Part I**

© All Rights Reserved

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><p><strong>May<strong>

The late spring air, usually balmy, was crisp and biting when Isobel Beckett made her way down to the Quidditch pitch at an ungodly hour of the morning. It was still dark outdoors. As usual, Beckett was up before the sun (and, also as usual, Dominique had just about lost the plot when Beckett had woken her up while leaving the Gryffindor fifth year girls' dormitory).

Beckett couldn't sleep, and she hadn't been sleeping well for weeks. Her life was simply too stressful. The Quidditch final against Ravenclaw was quickly approaching, and the Captain was about to have a breakdown because Beckett, Potter, and Anderson kept mucking up the Hawkshead Formation. Hey, it wasn't Beckett's fault if Potter came to practice drunk on stolen Firewhiskey! Also, she was on the road to failing out of Potions…literally. Beckett was fairly certain that her current grade in the blasted class was a T. And no matter how much she copied off Rose's homework, Beckett just couldn't seem to wrap her head around the difference between an antidote and a draught and an elixir. They were all just vials filled with bubbling shit! It didn't help that the Potions professor, Stimpson, was a sadistic bitch out to make Beckett's life a living hell until the day she graduated. Longbottom had called Beckett into his office the other day and reluctantly told her that unless she brought her grade up, she might not be allowed to play in the Quidditch match! And on top of all that, Beckett's best friend Nicola had disappeared barely a month ago.

_It's too bloody much for a sixteen-year-old witch to handle_, mused Beckett gloomily as she trudged toward the broomshed.

The only thing that kept her sane these days was flying. Beckett loved to fly – she had ever since she was a kid. Now the freckled brunette was a Chaser for the Gryffindor side, and she literally lived for practices and matches. Plus, she thrived on the knowledge that her enemies, like Stimpson or the obnoxious Niamh "My father is a famous Quidditch player" Connolly, would be begging for Beckett's autograph in a few years when she was a professional Chaser for the Magpies.

_Bloody tossers_, Beckett thought. _Why do I know so many annoying people?_

Her angry musings quickly ceased when she reached the doors of the old broomshed. Cracking open a door, Beckett breathed in the familiar smell of mud, sweat, and broomstick polish. _Ah, heaven_.

Stumbling a bit in the dark, Beckett made her way over to the wall where she kept her trusty Cleansweep Thirty-three by memory. Feeling her way along the brooms, she nearly took Wood's well-varnished Lightning by accident. _He'd have a fucking coronary_, thought Beckett, and she grinned a bit at the thought.

Just as Beckett's fingertips grazed the handle of her broom, she heard the door to the shed slam shut. Whirling around, Beckett squinted in an attempt to see through the darkness. From across the shed, she could just barely make out two cloaked figures standing near the doorway.

"Er…hello?" she called out. This was a bit weird.

No answer.

"Who's there?" she called again. "Wood? Is that you?" Who else would awake to practice in the wee hours of the morning besides Beckett and Alistair Wood, after all? "If it is, this isn't funny. Stop this rubbish and say something."

Beckett reached into her pocket for her wand, but she quickly paused when she heard a voice. "Leave your wand where it is."

She wrinkled her eyebrows. It was a bloke's voice, but it certainly didn't sound like Wood. "What? Who are you?"

"Not important. Leave your wand or I'll disarm you," commanded the taller figure.

Beckett gulped. _What the bloody fuck…_ "What's going on? Seriously, who are you and what do you want?" If she could only use Lumos she would be able to see who was under those dark hoods, but she had been warned not to touch her wand, of course. Beckett didn't get scared often, and while she wasn't exactly frightened, she was starting to become a bit nervous.

"Like he said," came the response – a female voice, this time, "don't worry about who we are. It isn't important."

"And as for what we want," the bloke added, "we have quite the proposition for you."

_What in buggering hell is happening? Is this one of the Slytherin side's creepy hazing rituals?_ Beckett was confused. "I'm confused," she voiced, never one to mince words.

The taller figure chuckled. "Oh, take it easy, this isn't Potions class, after all."

"What?" Beckett asked sharply. "What do you mean about Potions?" This was getting all too bizarre. Who were these people?

The shorter person whispered to the other one. "Stop mucking about," Beckett could hear her whisper. Then the witch spoke to Beckett loudly. "You're Isobel Beckett, fifth year Gryffindor Chaser?"

"Yes," responded Beckett slowly and bemusedly.

"Then we can help you, if you'll let us," continued the female voice.

The wizard spoke next. "We can turn your T in Potions into a big fat O."

Beckett's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Hands down, this was the strangest thing that had ever happened to her. "How do you know I have a T in Potions? Who are you creeps?"

"We're scouts, Beckett," said the bloke. "We work for the Leader."

_Okay, that's not creepy at all_, Beckett thought sardonically. "The Leader?" she echoed.

"Yeah, you know, the Gryffindor Leader?" He paused, then when Beckett didn't respond, added, "Of the Ring?"

Beckett's eyes widened in understanding. The Hogwarts crime Ring was the stuff of legends. She had always heard about it, of course, but she had never received confirmation that it actually existed. Until now, that is. Supposedly, the Ring was a syndicate of certain students from all four Houses. They were in charge of anything illegal that went on at the school – cheating, gambling, betting, drug deals, you name it, they did it.

"What are you doing? Stop telling her everything!" hissed the girl.

"What do you guys want with _me_?" questioned Beckett.

The female figure came a little closer. "It's very simple. You need something. We can give you what you need. We need something. You can give us what we need."

Beckett mulled this over in her mind. "So you're saying that I need a better Potions grade, right?"

"Yeah…I mean anything'd be better than what you have right now," chortled the bloke. The girl next to him slapped him.

"And you can help me get it?"

"Not just help you get it," answered the witch. "We work for the Ring. We can change any grade we want."

Beckett forced herself to breathe. Here she was, constantly stressing out over her rubbish Potions grade when all she should be doing was focusing on preparing for the Quidditch final. And all of a sudden, the answer to her worries just magically appeared in the form of two sketchy criminals. They could get rid of her T! She could work on designing flying formations instead of poring over her Potions textbook in the common room at night! She could play in the match! It seemed too good to be true.

"That's…I mean, that would be…brilliant," Beckett gushed. She would give just about anything not to have to worry about Potions anymore. "But wait. What can _I_ give _you_? What do you need?"

"This is one of the most anticipated Quidditch finals in years," began the wizard. "The points have never been this closely matched. And that means that the Ring is doing big business in taking bets on the outcome of the game."

Beckett nodded slowly. That all made sense. It was going to be a very close match, after all. Ravenclaw was good this year. Too good. Beckett had been practicing long goals and penalty shots for months in preparation.

"The point spread is strong. And some very important people would make a lot of money if Gryffindor didn't cover that point spread. Do you understand me?"

Frozen to the ground, Beckett felt unable to move or even breathe. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

"Listen," said the girl, "all you have to do is miss a couple goals, shave a few points. It's not a big deal. Gryffindor could still win the match, you know, if Dooley catches the Snitch."

Beckett's mouth was so dry that she hardly trusted herself to speak. _Fuck. This is just…fuck._ It was Quidditch, her beloved Quidditch! She loved the game more than anything in the world. How could she live with herself if she betrayed everything she had always valued?

_But like she said, you can still win the match_, needled the little nagging voice in the back of Beckett's head, the one that always assured her it was okay to copy off Rose or hex Mulciber in the corridors or stick Drooble's in Gemma Sweeting's hair. _And if your Potions grade isn't brought up, the team'll have to go to the Reserve for a replacement Chaser and they're all rubbish. Gryffindor would score even _less_ then_!

Her heart beating faster than it ever had, Beckett deliberated. If she agreed to the Ring's request, she would be a cheater. A point shaver. But professional athletes did it all the time, right? And it wasn't like Beckett was in this for major personal gain, to win thousands of Galleons or anything. She was just a girl who liked to play Quidditch. A girl who liked to play Quidditch who was failing Potions, and if her grade didn't improve, she might not get to play at all.

Deep breath. Lick lips. Chin up. "I'll do it," declared Beckett boldly, her heart hammering away.

It's the tiny little deeds that lead us toward the edge. One little slip and all of a sudden, you've sold your soul to the devil…

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><p><strong>AN**: Next chapter is Rose. I love reviews so please tell me what you think!


	3. original sin, part ii

_The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls_

**Original Sin, Part II**

© All Rights Reserved

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><p><strong>June<strong>

"You may now turn over your exam papers and begin."

Rose Weasley took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _Merlin_, she thought in a panic, _oh bloody fuck_. _Am I really going to go through with this?_

Rose was seated at a desk in the Great Hall, feeling entirely like a castaway lost and alone amidst the sea of her classmates. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. Everyone else had already turned over his paper and was hard at work on the Charms OWL. Rose glanced to her right, where her cousin Fred was chewing on the tip of his quill. She wrinkled her nose. That was absolutely disgusting; these quills weren't even the students' own, they were Anti-Cheating Quills given to them by the examiners. Rose made a mental note to scold Fred later – after all, she didn't want to be the one stuck using his germ-filled, chewed-up quill for the Transfiguration exam tomorrow.

She glanced down the row again and narrowed her eyes when they fell upon the student on the other side of Fred, which, thanks to alphabetical order, happened to be another of Rose's cousins, Dominique. The pretty blonde was biting her lip in concentration, scribbling madly away on her paper.

Oh, bloody hell. If even _Dominique_ was focusing determinedly on passing this exam, then Rose knew there was no backing down. She had begun planning for these exams months ago, and she wasn't going to let her nerves get the best of her. That just wasn't the Rose Weasley Way, after all.

_Get a grip, Rose_, she willed herself. _Don't be a bloody pillock. You want O's? Then get yourself together and get those O's_.

She turned over her paper and began the test.

_1. a) Give the incantation and b) describe the wand movement required to Banish an object._

Rose began to write. _The incantation for the Banishing Charm is_, she wrote. Then, steeling herself, she muttered ever-so-quietly under her breath, "Responsum revelio." Her quill began, on its own accord, to etch out a word: _Depulso_.

Her heart beating rapidly, Rose let out a sharp breath of air that she hadn't even known she was holding in. Of course, Depulso. She now remembered learning the Banishing Charm last year. But if she hadn't used the revealing spell, Rose was nearly certain that she wouldn't have recalled the answer.

Rose Weasley was a smart girl. A _very_ smart girl. She had mastered difficult charms like Tergeo back in the second year, she was practically better than Professor Cane at Transfiguration, and she was one of two students in her entire year sitting all twelve OWLs. Rose even went to the library on the weekends to independently study difficult topics like Cryptomancy. But when it came to exams, sometimes the stress simply became too much. Rose had the high expectations of her family, friends, classmates, and teachers to live up to; being Hermione Weasley's daughter did not exactly make for a carefree lifestyle. And the most pressure on Rose, of course, came from herself. She was going to receive all O's on her OWLs and NEWTs, graduate from Hogwarts at the top of her class, obtain a high-level position at the Ministry right out of school, and work her way up to becoming the first female Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. It was an ironclad plan that left no room for failure. Now, Rose was on the first step: the OWLs. Failure (a.k.a. getting any E's) was simply not an option.

And so, like all smart witches do, Rose had concocted a strategy to achieve her goal. After an embarrassing A in November on an Herbology test during which her nerves had betrayed her, Rose had decided that she would have to take matters into her own hands for the OWLs in June. It had taken her six months to figure out how to bypass the Anti-Cheating charms, but after many sleepless nights, she'd succeeded. And she was proud of herself, too. It had taken incredibly advanced magic that all of Rose's daft classmates could only dream of comprehending.

But there was a tiny nagging feeling in the pit of Rose's stomach that had started in the winter and had only grown with the passing seasons. Anytime she thought too long or deeply about what she was actually doing, she broke out into a cold sweat and had to immediately switch her train of thought to something innocuous like the treacle tart at dinner or the latest prefects' meeting agenda. It was a feeling called guilt.

And Rose didn't like it one bit.

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><p><strong>AN**: You review, I update! What do you think so far?


	4. original sin, part iii

_The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls_

**Original Sin, Part III**

© All Rights Reserved

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><p><strong>July<strong>

_He pushed her back roughly against the cold stone wall, his rough hands encircling her tiny wrists. Aurelia Vaisey's grey eyes flew wide open, and her lips formed an 'O' of surprise. Advancing toward her further, Thaddeus Gable pressed his knee in between Aury's legs._

_Aury gasped._

_Thad merely took one of his hands and began an agonizingly slow journey along the outside of Aury's robes up her waist. Aury came perilously close to succumbing to his ministrations, before she finally came to her senses._

"_Thad!" she gasped. "Shouldn't we…" she trailed off as he bent down to nuzzle her ear. "Shouldn't we get to…class?" The last word came out in a blissful sigh as she leaned into his touch._

_He chuckled into her ear. Aury could feel the deep vibrations of the sound throughout her entire body, and she shivered delightfully. "Don't tell me you'd rather be in class right now," he murmured. He blew hotly into her eardrum. "You're going to hurt my feelings."_

_Then Thad leant down and began planting feather-light kisses along her jawbone. He moved at such a slow pace that Aury couldn't help but feel impatient for him to reach her lips. She tried to inconspicuously shift her face so that his lips would reach hers, but of course Thad noticed and he only laughed quietly. "Well aren't you a naughty girl," he remarked, pausing in his path. "Whoever would've thought that little Aury Vaisey would turn out to be so…bad?"_

_Whoever would've thought it, indeed? Aury was the good girl, the perfect witch, the obedient daughter. Her friend Nicola had always called her the "little mouse," which had annoyed Aury, but mostly because it was so true. Aury was hopelessly sheltered and naïve thanks to her strict upbringing by her very conservative pure-blooded father. She was merely the cheerful, kind-hearted girl who everyone saw in a very certain manner._

_A manner that was essentially the complete opposite of snogging an older boy in a deserted corridor when she was meant to be in Defense class._

_Aury giggled softly as Thad pulled her back into a shadowy corner as a prefect walked by. Thad quickly covered her mouth with his large hand, but when Aury looked into his eyes, they were laughing. The pair remained still, breathing heavily, until the prefect's footsteps traveled to the other end of the corridor. Then Aury went up on her tiptoes and finally planted a sweet kiss on Thad's lips; she just couldn't stand the wait any longer. He seemed to feel the same way, because he instantly gathered Aury up into his arms, pulling her face closer to his and meeting her lips again in an insistent kiss that was anything but sweet. _

_Aury had to admit it, if only to herself: she was getting the strangest thrill out of sneaking around like this. She knew it was wrong, of course, but the fact that she was doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing gave her the most intense adrenaline rush she had ever felt. It felt good being bad._

_And just like that, Aury was addicted…_

"Of course, Whitehorn is making noise about running for office again, but we all know it's nothing more than nonsense. His money's all from brooms; what does he know about running a country?"

Aury started in her seat as she quickly snapped out of her reverie in response to her father's voice. She shook her head vigorously, trying to jolt herself into paying attention instead of daydreaming about the memory of her tryst with Thad in the spring.

Aury and Mr. Vaisey were seated in the spacious and immaculate parlor of their large estate. Father and daughter met for tea each day at the same time, a long-standing ritual that had begun before Aury could remember. Mr. Vaisey was, after all, a very busy man, but he was never too busy to keep a closely watchful eye on his only daughter.

"Well, that's the thing, I suppose, isn't it?" continued Mr. Vaisey. "He _has_ got that bottomless vault at Gringotts. That's going to make him a real contender in the election, unfortunately, because there's really nothing you can't do if you have enough Galleons. He might garner popular support but the higher-ups will never stand for it. He'd make Britain the laughingstock of the Wizarding world if he were Minister."

"Hmm," replied Aury noncommittally. She was staring out the far parlor window at the grounds below. It was a beautiful, sunny summer day; the chrysanthemums that Aury's late mother had planted years ago were in full bloom, and the fresh breeze wafting through the open window lifted Aury's dirty blonde curls.

Aury's father loved to talk, and he usually rambled about his favorite subject, politics. Aury couldn't help but be frightfully bored by anything pertaining to the Ministry. This sort of conversation was more up Rose's alley than hers. Aury would rather be thinking of boys, wonderfully strong and good-looking boys who kissed her hard when they really shouldn't. She smiled secretly to herself.

Mr. Vaisey was still going on about the upcoming campaign race for Minister for Magic. "And that awful witch from the Department of Magical Catastrophes has been going around and making speeches at parties and balls all year. It's simply preposterous – no one would want to take orders from her, she looks like she's just swallowed some Bubotuber pus."

Aury nodded vacantly at her father's rant. She was still softly smiling, thinking about Thad and other boys like him, when she spotted her family's gorgeous eagle owl, Agrippa, flying in the window with a letter.

"Oh, go fetch me the post, won't you, dear?" remarked her father absently.

Obediently, Aury rose and made her way across the room to the windowsill.

"I'm sure Ollerton is considering a run, we all know how he is. But he's not serious, he can't be, not cooped up in that castle all year with no one to talk to but children." Mr. Vaisey chuckled. "My friend Horatio, you know, Horatio Travers, told me he'd like to throw his hat in the ring, but of course his family was much too involved in the War. Pity they came out on the wrong side, oh well, what's past is past…"

Aury stroked Agrippa's silky feathers and smiled down at the owl. The letter was tied to his leg, so Aury began undoing the string.

"There really aren't any excellent candidates for Minister this year. I mean, there are average candidates, I suppose, but average doesn't win elections. And there are certainly more than enough unsuitable candidates." Mr. Vaisey was frowning across the room, looking thoroughly put out. Aury secretly rolled her eyes. Thank Merlin she would be off to Hogwarts in a few weeks, where wouldn't have to listen to her father drone on and on about the election anymore.

Then Aury came up with the perfect plan to distract her father from talking to her about politics. "Why don't you run for Minister, Father?" She twirled around, sending a sugary and hopeful smile her father's way. "You'd be _ever_ so perfect for the job." If Mr. Vaisey was a candidate, he'd be too busy to monitor daughter's doings too closely. Exactly what Aury desired.

Mr. Vaisey laughed for a moment. "What? Me? Don't be silly, Aurelia." Then he grew thoughtful. "Me, run for Minister, eh? I do have experience in politics, and Merlin knows they need someone with his head on right running the Ministry for once." He smiled over at his daughter. "You know, Aurelia, my dear, I do believe you've just had a most genius idea. I must not be giving your professors at Hogwarts enough credit." He leaned forward in his armchair, reaching for a parchment and quill, presumably to start drafting his acceptance speech or something of the sort.

Aury turned over the fresh white envelope and, to her surprise, read her own name on the front. Usually her father was the one getting post, important communications from the Ministry or Wizengamot. Her eyes traveled up to the top corner to see who had sent her the letter and they widened when she read the two words that she had been trying so very hard not to think about all summer.

_Luke Knightley_.

Also known as Aury's trusting, devoted, loving, been-going-out-with-him-for-three-years-now _boyfriend_.

Conscience is a fickle friend. And Aury's was quickly becoming her own worst enemy.

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><p><strong>AN**: Please please please review! It definitely motivates me to write more. So what do you think of Aury? And get ready for the last of the sinners in the next part, none other than little miss Dominique Weasley! What will her sin be?


	5. original sin, part iv

**A/N: **This chapter is finally over!

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><p><em>The Secret Lives of Sinful Girls<em>

**Original Sin, Part IV**

© All Rights Reserved

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><p><strong>August<strong>

_Dominique is blooming with the roses._

Like hell she was.

Dominique Weasley laughed quietly to herself as she turned over her grandmother's words in her mind, let them whirl around and fold in on top of one another. Her grandma said some pretty ridiculous things, but this was easily one of the most ridiculous yet. But yesterday, when Grandma had stopped by Dominique's house, she had looked over at Dominique who was standing near the garden and abruptly stated, "Oh, look, Fleur. Look at Dominique. She's blooming with the roses."

Everyone else had forgotten it but Dominique. She was still thinking about it even today, as she sat at the lunch table out on the Weasleys' patio near the water. Her tall white house ("Mansion," corrected Beckett cheekily in Dominique's head) loomed behind her, and if she looked out across the lawn, she could see the roses.

It was a hot, hot day of summer. Dominique's whole body was sticky with sweat. She tugged her powder blue dress down over her thighs, and, as she did so, she was all too aware of her newly-grown chest, her slimmer waist, her wider hips. _Maybe Grandma had a_… No. It was too absurd to even consider.

"The work is challenging, but of course I absolutely love it. The goblins are actually such darlings once you get to know them, and my supervisor tells me, but it's a secret, you know, that I'll be promoted within the year!"

Dominique rolled her aqua-colored eyes. Here we go again, she thought to herself. Her family had been treated to a special edition of the seminal classic, "My Absurdly Impeccable Life, Job, Relationships, Friends, Clothes, and Hair (because Bad Hair Days Don't Exist in My World)" by Victoire Weasley, just yesterday, when Victoire had gushed for hours to their grandma about how utterly swimmingly her job at Gringotts was going. And now, not twenty-four hours later, Dominique was apparently going to have to hear her sister's tale all over again, because the Weasleys had a special guest over for lunch.

Victoire's on-and-off boyfriend of nearly five years, Teddy "Yeah, I'm just naturally this dashing" Lupin, was seated next to Dominique at the lunch table and across from Victoire. He was nodding at all the right parts in Victoire's narration, but as Dominique snuck a glance up at him through her eyelashes, she caught the smallest hint of a hidden snicker on his lips. Hmm, could the gallant Teddy Lupin really be laughing at the eminent Victoire Weasley?

Dominique couldn't help herself. She let out a delighted laugh…

..which unfortunately came out right as Victoire declared, "I'm told I'm one of the best employees Gringotts has ever had!"

Everyone at the table whirled around to stare at Dominique. Victoire's glare was arctic. "You disagree, Dominique?" she snapped.

Dominique widened her eyes, trying to look innocent. "Of course not, no, never. You did get an O on your Arithmancy NEWT, after all, right?" she attempted, trying to look supportive. "I was just laughing…at…Louis' hair."

"My hair?" Louis, Dominique's little brother, asked, affronted.

"Your hair," nodded Dominique.

"His hair?" Victoire wrinkled her eyebrows.

"His hair," intoned Teddy solemnly. He held his somber face for a moment, and then he and Dominique glanced at each other and burst into peals of hysterical laughter.

Victoire sniffed disdainfully. "You two are such odd creatures."

"Yeah, and what the hell is wrong with my hair?" reiterated twelve-year-old Louis, who probably shouldn't have been using that sort of language.

Dominique never answered. She was too busy laughing – at Louis' confusion, at Victoire's derisive expression, at Teddy's demeanor. He was smiling at Dominique now, his hazel eyes alight with mirth. She stared back at him, her laughter slowly fading as she stared into those dancing eyes of his. He really was too dashing for his own good.

"The lunch is served!" trilled Dominique's flamboyant mother as she floated over to the table with a tray in hand. "Croques monsieurs, baguettes, salad, and of course we need a little of the wine for the table!"

"Oh, yum, Maman, this looks absolutely delicious!" prattled Victoire.

"Bloody suck-up," Dominique mumbled under her breath, irritated as usual by her ingratiating older sister.

Teddy apparently heard her and sent her a warning look. "Dom," he cautioned in a low voice. He was smirking, though, so Dominique didn't take it too seriously.

Mrs. Weasley set plates down in front of each member of the family. There were only the five of them at lunch today, because Dominique's dad was abroad for work. He was a Curse-breaker for Gringotts. It was all very glamorous, of course, but Dominique hated when he was away, as he so often was, because it meant that she was stuck with the two most overbearing women on the planet: her mother and her sister.

Dominique watched as Teddy, then Louis, then Victoire received their food. She glanced across the table at Victoire's plate – a massive croque madame ("We need to fatten you up, cherie," Mrs. Weasley had explained) spilled over onto the vegetables and bread surrounding it.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley gave Dominique her lunch. She looked down. All that was on her plate was a meager-looking salad, with a couple of croutons, and a wimpy little piece of baguette. And it wasn't even an actual piece – it was the end of the loaf, which her mother knew Dominique loathed.

"Where's my croque monsieur?" Dominique asked.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Oh, you know, I ran out of cheese, sorry Dominique, you do not mind, do you?"

But Dominique knew better. The Weasleys were half-French; they never ran out of cheese.

She swallowed. "Right," was her terse response. Dominique stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork and shoved it into her mouth.

Lunch was terribly boring, as usual. Victoire monopolized the conversation, and Mrs. Weasley only egged her on. Dominique was quite certain that by the end of the summer hols, she would be able to work for Gringotts, simply because of all the information she had learned about the bank from hearing Victoire go on about it so.

After the meal, Louis dashed off to one of his friends' houses to play Quidditch. After only one year at Hogwarts, he really was quite popular. Dominique excused herself from the table soon after. She simply couldn't stand her sister's icy looks at her and expertly-timed flirtatious winks at Teddy any longer.

Dominique was perched on top of the counter, looking through the kitchen cabinets for something more to eat (her mom hadn't been fooling anyone; she clearly was trying to put Dominique onto a thinly veiled diet of some sort) when she heard footsteps on the floorboards behind her. She guiltily whirled around, racking her brain for an excuse. She quickly relaxed, though, when she saw that it was only Teddy. Dominique sent him a silly, embarrassed grin.

"I'm just off to the loo," Teddy assured her. "I saw nothing." He tapped his nose and ambled off to the toilet.

Dominique gazed after him for a few moments, a stupidly wistful look on her face. She quickly realized how daft she must have looked and reverted back to her usual unflappable glower. She became so engrossed in once again rummaging through the cabinet that she was once again startled when Teddy re-entered the kitchen and queried, "Find anything yet?"

Dominique was so startled, in fact, that she lost her precarious balance on the counter and began to topple off the side. She probably would have fallen if Teddy hadn't rushed over and grabbed her around the waist.

She slowly revolved to face him, her dress gliding smoothly through his hands. In a breathless moment, her blue eyes caught his hazel ones, and Dominique and Teddy tried, they _really_ tried, but they couldn't find the strength to look away.

Daring herself to break the mesmeric silence, Dominique finally breathed, "Thanks."

Teddy swallowed deeply. "No problem."

The quiet was deafening. Dominique knew she had to say something or the situation would seem even shadier than it already was. After all, don't think she hadn't noticed that his hands were still gripping her waist. Oh, no, Dominique was _all _too aware of that. "I hope your trip to the loo was good," she ventured, and then immediately blushed. _You're a daft cow_, she berated herself. _No, seriously, you're worse than famous idiot Dessy Ingham_.

Teddy raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Uh, yes, it was pleasant. As pleasant as a trip to the loo can be," he teased, smirking at her in that way she'd practically lived for ever since she was about eight. Dominique owned that smirk. Victoire might have Teddy, might get to call him her boyfriend and drape herself on him in public and wake up next to him in the mornings and run her hands through his silky brown hair, but Dominique had his incorrigible smirk. After all, he never smirked at Victoire like that.

Dominique chewed on her lip. "Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"So have you discovered anything edible?" he asked again.

Shrugging, Dominique replied. "Just some stale crackers that Maman probably bought before Louis was born."

"Tasty," responded Teddy, licking his lips. He was staring straight at Dominique's lips as he said this, so she quickly stopped chewing on her bottom one.

"Right, well, I'd better look some more, then," Dominique suddenly said. "And you'd better get back outside, Merlin knows they've probably gone barmy without someone to regale with fascinating tales about paperwork and stock quotes and interest rates and –"

Dominique's remark was cut off by Teddy, who had abruptly and without any warning captured her lips in an adamant kiss. She was thoroughly caught off guard. His lips moved quickly against hers, and she couldn't help but blissfully close her eyes as something she hadn't even dared to dream about finally became a reality.

She reached up to touch his hair, and she smiled into his kiss when she discovered that it was just as smooth as she'd always known it would be. Pulling his head closer to her own, Dominique leaned into the kiss. Teddy's tongue gained entrance to her mouth, and Dominique nearly died when one of his hands began to traverse her body, up her torso, down her thighs.

The first sin is the easiest, because you don't know it when it happens. It's just an accident, a mistake, something that will never happen again. But then it _does_ happen again, and even though it gets harder to keep doing it…it's even harder to stop.

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><p><strong>AN: **And this is finally the end of the prologue-ish stuff! Next chapter: it's finally September and sixth year begins! So **please** review if you can spare a moment – it's my best cure for procrastination. & I love all of my reviewers – you guys are the best!

Who's your favorite of the four girls so far? Which of their sins do you think is the worst? I want to hear it all!


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